


Bring me to life

by vampiric_mcd



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mindfuck, Non Consensual, Power Play, Rape, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-27
Updated: 2010-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:52:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampiric_mcd/pseuds/vampiric_mcd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was absolute madness. And Christopher revelled in it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring me to life

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[drugs](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/drugs), [dubcon](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/dubcon), [fic](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/fic), [fics](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/fics), [fiction](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/fiction), [kirk](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/kirk), [kirk/pike](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/kirk/pike), [mindfuck](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/mindfuck), [nero](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/nero), [noncon](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/noncon), [pike](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/pike), [pike/kirk](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/pike/kirk), [powerplay](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/powerplay), [rape](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/rape), [startrek](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/startrek), [torture](http://vampiric-mcd.livejournal.com/tag/torture)  
  
---|---  
  
_ **fic: (Startrek XI) Bring me to life** _

Fandom: Startrek XI

 

Title: Bring me to life

 

Pairing: Pike/Kirk

 

Summary: It was absolute madness. And Christopher revelled in it.

 

Word count: 2655

 

Rating: NC17

 

Warning: filthy sex, consent issues, mindfuckery

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Startrek

 

A/N: *facepalms* Seriously, I have no excusefor this except for my depraved mind. No excuse at all.

 

_ **Bring Me To Life** _

 

All this time I can't believe I couldn't see  
kept in the dark but you were there in front of me  
I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems  
got to open my eyes to everything  
without a thought without a voice without a soul  
don't let me die here  
there must be something more  
bring me to life

 

(Wake me up)  
Wake me up inside  
(I can't wake up)  
Wake me up inside  
(Save me)  
call my name and save me from the dark  
(Wake me up)  
bid my blood to run  
(I can't wake up)  
before I come undone  
(Save me)  
Save me from the nothing I've become

 

**by Evanescence**

 

It all became a blur in the end.

 

It became so bad that Christopher couldn't even tell which side was up and which one was down. He couldn't even distinguish reality from fantasy from nightmare. All he was distantly aware off, was the fact that Nero was somehow rooting around his brain. And he could nothing to stop him. And after a while, he wasn't quite aware of Nero anymore either.

 

Chris knew that he could probably blame it on both the drugs and pain – a heady combination that could forgive him a lot of things. After all, it wouldn't be the first time someone buckled under torture. He certainly wouldn't be the first Starfleet officer who said things in a fever or drug induced torture session. He wouldn't be the first one to say, see, hear or feel things and sensations that he had no business revealing or thinking about. It could all be forgiven up to a point. And if it hadn't been more than that – torture plain and simple. If it had just broken him and if it had been left at that – he probably could have forgiven even himself in time.

 

But the truth of the matter was that Nero reduced him to something he couldn't really bear to think about. Even if it was the only thing left to ponder.

 

Because when madness started closing in and the pain was such a constant that his body couldn't tell the difference between agony and pleasure anymore - all Christopher could think about was Jim Kirk.

 

The only thing – only person – he could focus on was that wild child. The centre of his universe was reduced to a man that haunted his dreams and his nightmares. He fixated on Kirk until he had no inhibitions left. And then Nero made him see the kind of man he could be – the kind of man he despised. What made it worse was that part of him revelled in the knowledge of it all. So all in all – Christopher didn't think he could forgive himself.

 

Because Nero did something that made reality blur – but Christopher was pretty sure that the content his brain cooked up was all on him. And all he could think about was Jim Kirk. Thoughts of forgiveness and honour – sanity and training – were slowly thrown away for a glorious sensation of unrivalled power.

 

It was absolute madness. And Christopher revelled in it.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

He had Kirk on his knees – those pretty lips were wrapped around his cock and Christopher had a fist knotted in that too short golden hair.

 

He was making Kirk take it, no input or preference on the boy's part necessary. His balls slapped against the boy's chin which produced a loud obscene wet sound of skin meeting skin.

 

He laughed because it felt so good – so fucking good and blue eyes stared up at him in something close to awe and hate and powerlessness. Christopher grinned – teeth bared – because he just made Kirk take it – just like that. And the boy was good at it. Too good. And Christopher hated all the men that had come before. Kirk was his.

 

"Pretty little cocksucker."

He whispered harshly. Always a favourite and probably nothing that Kirk hadn't heard before.

"You must have had a lot of practice to be this good at it, haven't you boy."

Absolutely hated it. He fucked that mouth harder, loving the feel of drool slide down his cock and balls. Loving the choking sounds and the feel of Kirk's throat struggling to take him in. Loving the way Kirk's nostrils flared wide, trying to take enough air in – showing him no mercy. Kirk was his.

 

And why couldn't Kirk stay out of trouble, because maybe it wouldn't come to this then. Bruised knees and stretched lips, and maybe Christopher doesn't mind that this wild child remained so rebellious. Otherwise he wouldn't get to do this. Still, why couldn't the boy stop whoring around because that was something Christopher did mind.

 

He would show James Tiberius Kirk just what he was worth. So very pretty on his knees before Christopher – worth this yet so much more. He didn't think Kirk got that though. And yet the only way Christopher could deal with it anymore was making Kirk take it – and take it – and take it.

 

He came on Kirk's face. Blue eyes glittering up at him with too many emotions and Christopher would show him – even if Kirk doesn't want to see.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Another breath and suddenly he's got the boy cradled in his lap. Those lovely creamy thighs were spread wide and straining. The boy rode his cock up and down in a corkscrewing motion that left Christopher literally breathless. Those hips were a sin on their own and Christopher gritted his teeth.

 

His fingers brushed sharp hipbones – and Christopher slowly spread his knees wider – making Kirk moan like a pretty bitch in heat. He laughed. The very sound and feel of Kirk desperately clutching at him – artlessly begging for more – made him dig his nails sharper into those lovely hips.

 

He was leaving his mark. By the end of the fuck, Kirk would have Christopher mapped out unto his skin – as well as inside of his body. There wouldn't ever be anything between him and Kirk. He bit down on Kirk's collarbone, then licked the teeth marks. What he owned he kept and Kirk would just have to deal.

 

Christopher wanted to be all Kirk could think about. He wanted to be the centre of this boy's world. And he would destroy anything that stood in his path to do just that.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The world changed and everything was different – but still right. It was always right.

 

"Just say it." Christopher said gently. "Just say it, my beautiful boy."

 

He stroked his hands down the side of that lithe body, delighting in the shiver it produced. He circled his hips deliberately and smiled as the boy tried to buck upwards into the motion but couldn't. Kirk couldn't since Christopher had him all but pinned down spread-eagled. He had never seen a more beautiful filthy sight.

 

"No." It came as a desperate denial, but he knew better. Christopher leaned down and licked the shell of an ear. He chuckled as the boy strained away from him – then couldn't help but move closer at another thrust. Christopher knew how to play a body.

 

"Say it, you know you want to."

 

He coaxed the boy so very gently. He would hear the words, no matter how long Kirk struggled not to give in. He placed his palms deliberately on sharp shoulder blades and pressed the boy harder and harder into the mattress. Not that it mattered. Especially since Christopher had Kirk cuffed to the bed.

 

"Say it and be my very good boy. You don't want to disappoint me, do you? Do you my very good boy?"

He swivelled his hips again. Kirk began to tremble inside and Christopher laughed again.

"Christ you feel good."

 

"Please, please, just let me come." The boy's voice was thready and needy and desperate and everything he wanted. Christopher thrived on it.

 

"Please, just please…" The boy moaned frantically, but Christopher could feel him weakening. He could hear him weakening and he wanted to hear it. Kirk just had to say it and he would be merciful to the boy.

 

"Say it Jim, and be such a perfect wonderful boy for me." Christopher whispered and then smiled when Kirk obliged him at last by moaning the word _daddy_. Christopher rutted hard into his boy and came. When he came down from his high, he brushed his lips against Kirk's sweaty temple.

 

"Good boy."

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

He had the boy on his back on the large bed in his captain's cabin. Kirk's legs were spread wide and the boy had his hands behind his knees. It gave him a perfect view of the boy's ass and thighs. He fisted himself again at the sight.

 

Kirk's hole was dripping with Christopher's come. And when he moved to finger the boy – he got a drawn out filthy moan. The boy really made for an excellent catamite.

 

"I could go to war for this." Christopher spoke softly, hands bruising that perfectly pale skin.

 

Kirk looked disoriented for a moment, but Christopher took up the hypo-spray laying beside the bed with his free hand. He pressed against Kirk's neck and injected it. The Risa aphrodisiac worked wonders. It was a pity it was so addictive though. He dropped the hypo-spray to the ground. Kirk grunted roughly as the desire and arousal hit him at full force. Christopher kept massaging his prostate - watching Kirk move his hips sinfully and whine so beautifully.

 

He pulled his fingers out and moved his hands to the boy's hips – roughly pulling him to the side of bed before transferring his grip to Kirk's ankles. Angling himself correctly – Christopher drove himself into that dripping body in one smooth thrust and smiled at the drawn out moan it got him.

 

Such a perfect little slut – all for him and only him. Yes, he could go to war for this.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

He was being sucked off during a video conference – admirals Archer and Belarus were discussing the Klingon activities in a nebula no one cared about. They couldn't see Kirk's bobbing head, but Christopher knew that the other two men were fully aware about what was happening. They knew that Christopher had his cock down a cadet's throat – the very cadet that the admiralty tended to refer to as 'Pike's piece of ass'.

 

Christopher also knew that any one of those fuckers would love a slut like Kirk available to them at any given time. He was sure that the thought of Kirk's ass, pretty mouth or skilful hands always at the ready for Christopher's every pleasure and demand must drive them insane with jealousy.

 

He leaned back and petted Kirk's head. Archer tilted his head at him, while Belarus glared for a moment. Christopher knew that they would at least like to see Kirk's mouth stretched around his cock, but he had always been a stingy bastard with what he considered his. And Kirk was very much his and his alone. This was as close as he would ever let them come to Jim Kirk.

 

Christopher had destroyed any chance at a successful political career of the last admiral, who had dared to demand a taste of Kirk's services. Of course that was nothing compared to what he had done to the last one to make a direct play for Kirk. Christopher had ruined that one completely. A bit harsh perhaps, but at least they had all finally gotten the picture.

 

It paid to set an example. Christopher didn't share – ever. He knew that Kirk remained amused at the situation. He didn't complain though, since it resulted into Jim Kirk being willing to suck him off in front of those envious pricks. Christopher could work with that. He cupped his hand more fully around Kirk's head and left it there – feeling the boy work for it.

 

He smiled with his teeth bared at his fellow high ranking officers who were watching him with knowing eyes.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Scene after different scene followed – and they all felt so very real.

 

It was as if it were they all were real. They all felt as if they were happening right now – as if each scene was his life until it changed into the next one – that one just as real as the previous and next one. Until even those truthful moments became a blur.

 

Blue eyes looked at him in adoration – fear – lust – hate – pain – pleasure – indifference – anger – comfort – kindness – hunger – possessiveness – obsession – delirium – and most importantly love.

 

In the end, Christopher realized that every scene came down to the words – spoken or implied or merely there in every thoughtless or thoughtful move he made.

 

"Above all else Jim, you're mine."

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

When Christopher finally came out of it, he knew that the illusion would haunt him far more than pain ever could. Realizing that nothing was real was bone jarring. Waking up to Nero's thoughtful face didn't change matters. He felt broken and used. More importantly, he felt dishonourable and crazy.

 

When Nero did something that sent spikes of agony through his body, he welcomed it. This pain would keep him from surrendering to that dream world. He drank in the sight of the unforgiving environment of the Narada. It kept reminding him that nothing was real except for the pain.

 

Once he was rescued – the sight of James Tiberius Kirk made him feel desperately nauseous. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the boy in one of the different fantasies.

 

It would have been kinder to just kill him. Instead he was transported to his own sickbay and McCoy tried to save his legs. He had to stop himself from ordering to just let him be. When the narcotics took him under – he prayed for a dreamless sleep.

 

He woke up alone in the small captain's room that sickbay had. The lights were dimmed to near darkness. He closed his eyes again, feeling the panic take him. He turned his head to the side and dry heaved. Blue eyes and pale skin already haunted him. He closed his eyes and tried not to cry. Christopher knew that he could never make amends. Even if though no one knew. It was enough that Christopher himself knew. He knew and could never forget.

 

He had been faced with parts of his soul that he never knew he possessed. He had been reduced to ugly thoughts and filthy satisfying desires. He had been ruled by a need for companionship that was far beyond normal – far beyond what he should or could want.

 

All he was left with was this cold reality, where everything hurt. Nothing felt right and he didn't have Kirk. He didn't have Kirk in any shape or form. Before all this had happened he hadn't even known that piece of himself. He hadn't known he could want anyone like he wanted Kirk. Now it was all he could think about. And if he was completely truthful, then he could admit that he wanted Kirk even after that had happened.

In fact, he wanted Kirk however he could have him – by force or coercion or just plain consent. He inhaled sharply. That realization would follow him until he was dead and buried – and perhaps even beyond that. He inhaled sharply, trying to calm himself down.

 

_ Kirk on his knees – pretty lips wrapped around his cock._

 

Fingers brushing impossibly sharp hipbones.

 

"Daddy."

 

Drugged perfection.

 

Tight, wet heat around his cock.

 

Willing affection and envious glances.

 

All of it is Christopher's and no one else's.

 

Pale skin left for him to mark and claim.

 

Sex and a sense of infinite power.

 

"Above all else Jim, you're mine."

 

Utterly and only mine.

 

Mine.

 

Christopher had the awful feeling that he would never sleep soundly without the necessary medication again. Blue eyed perfection constantly teetering at the edges of awareness and all he could think about was this.

 

_Mine._

 

 

The End.


End file.
